


Saturday's child

by Tapiocatundra (Endless_beginnings)



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Family, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endless_beginnings/pseuds/Tapiocatundra
Summary: Suddenly the child flung his arms up, staring straight at Mike, a smile stretching across his face.A familiar, dimpled smile."Mike!" He called.Mike almost choked. "Peter?"OrPeter gets turned into a two-year-old, the others take care of him
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	Saturday's child

**Author's Note:**

> Asdgg it has been posted!  
> Go to @clarksville-ticketmaster on Tumblr to see some doodles and art I and others have made! This is gonna be a very sweet and wholesome au

The door to the pad was gently closed behind them.

It was quiet, except for the shuffling of feet as four Monkees dragged themselves throughout the main area. Ready to rest after the mess of a day they've had.

"Last time we get gigs from mad scientists," Mike declared to the others "...Or at least play in a crumbling castle.”

He was answered with tired mumbling.

"Hey, Davy, " Mike called out after he made sure his hat was free of rubble. "That rope was pretty tight on your wrists-"

Davy simply waved him off, already knowing what he was going to say.

" m' fine, just a lil' sore," he replied,

"Aw, does no one care about me?" Micky called out from the kitchen, batting his eyelashes for extra effect. 

"At least Frankenstein's monster's sister wasn't after you," Davy bit back, an exaggerated pout on his features, "you were just put in a cage-"

"And it smelled!" Micky yelled back, voice adopting a higher pitch.

"Oh, cut it out you two," Mike interrupted, swinging his hat at them for emphasis. 

"Yes, mother!" Micky shouted from the bathroom.

Mike simply rolled his eyes, too tired to argue back, settling on wondering where in the world their sudden burst of energy came from.

Mike threw the keys to the Monkee mobile in their usual place, deciding to head off to bed instead of bringing back all the instruments inside. That could wait until morning.

But first, Mike turned to where he had seen Peter throw himself onto the couch.

"Hey shotgun, you all-" Mike cut himself off.

Peter was sprawled across the cushions, using his arm like a makeshift pillow, already lost in dreamland.

He remained asleep as Mike tossed a blanket over his sleeping form. 

Peter remained on the couch well into the morning, until the sound of something crashing to the floor woke him up.

Peter woke with a start, surprisingly well-rested for having slept on the couch, still in his matching uniform.

"Sorry, Pete! Didn't mean to wake you," Micky apologized as he picked up one of his drums, another tucked away under his arm.

With a quick look around Peter realized he had slept through the others bringing the instruments in, his own guitar placed neatly in its usual spot. Peter pouted at this revelation, having been of no help to the others.

"Hey, Peter! Could you bring in my bass drum from the car?" Micky called out in the middle of organizing his drums in their proper places.

"Yeah!" Peter launched himself up from the couch and ran outside.

The drum was tucked in the back of the car, making Peter climb into the back just to reach it. Peter grabbed it by the rim and pulled it; only to reveal something that had been hidden behind it. A boxy, metallic object.

Peter hesitantly picked it up, scooting back out with the other instrument in hand. Had they accidentally brought it with them in their rushed escape from the scientist's lab? 

Peter entered the pad, making his way towards Micky, staring at the device in hand.

"What's that?" Micky asked, craning his neck to get a better look at the metal box as Peter handed him the final piece of his instrument. Peter only shrugged. "I think we accidentally took it from that castle."

"I guess we _were_ in a rush to get out," Micky thought aloud as he stood, dusting off his knees.

Peter turned it in his hands; there were a few knobs and switches that decorated the machine, on the back (Or what Peter assumed was the back) was a large red dial pointed to a few Roman numerals.

The front lens reminded Peter of a camera.

The lens was made of a dark purple, Peter brought it closer to his face, he could see the way it strangely turned into a lighter blue.

"Is it dangerous?" Micky asked just as Peter accidentally pressed a button.

It was like being shocked. 

There was a bright light and suddenly a bolt of energy seemed to travel through him, leaving him blinded and dizzy for a moment, his fingertips stinging from the energy. Peter would rather not have that happen again.

Peter looked up to see Micky giving him a troubled look. For a moment neither spoke, as if waiting for something to happen. Something caused by the strange machine going off.

When nothing happened Peter shrugged, handing Micky the metal box.

"I don't think so, must be broken."

After briefly looking at it and brought to the attention of Davy and Mike to discuss what to do with it, the box was placed in the drawer of the table near the front door, after having been deemed a dud by Micky.

And that was the end of it.

At least, that's what they thought.

Peter held back another yawn as he played his guitar. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead and his head dropped from where he stood, but he remained determined to at least make it through their weekly practice. 

Davy watched Peter slump himself over as the song ended; the instrument in his hands appearing heavy in his arms, truly believing had it been not for the strap on the guitar, it would have fallen ages ago.

Mike lowered his own instrument, having had enough of watching Peter silently struggle with himself, "You alright there, shotgun?"

Peter brushed the hair from his face. Even from behind his drums Micky could see the tired look in his eyes.

"...No," Peter quietly confesses. On any other day he would have assured them he was simply tired, that he could make it through the hour of practice they had left. But something felt different today.

This didn't feel like regular exhaustion, this felt like something had taken all his energy and left him with nothing. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, his limbs heavy and ached with every movement.

"It's like, ten thirty-something,” Micky spoke up, eyes looking around for a clock "Maybe we should call it a night?" He said in an attempt to step in for Peter. Davy nodded his head in agreement, "Pretty tired myself, though, not as tired as Peter here…”

Mike thought for a moment, taking in Peter's fatigued appearance before nodding too. "We could use a break, there's always tomorrow.”

Davy thought nothing of how fast Peter seemed to pass out as soon as his head hit his pillow.

Micky didn't think twice of Peter not being at breakfast, assuming he'd simply show up later for some cereal. 

When Mike knocks on the shared bedroom door of Davy and Peter it's exactly one in the afternoon.

"Peter? You up yet?" He calls out. When he's met by silence the Texan pursed his lips and gave another knock.

Behind Mike, Davy crosses his arms. "I'm sure he's fine, probably just having a kip.”

"For this long? I haven't seen him once today," Mike countered.

Micky went up and jiggled the door handle. "Room service!" He called out, before opening the door and stepping in.

There was no one in the room.

"Peter?" Mike found himself calling out again, turning in place as he took in the apparently empty room. "It's like he disappeared!" Davy mumbled in disbelief. 

"Peter?" Micky yelled as he checked underneath the beds, running over to look out the window.

"He couldn't have just disappeared, we would have heard him leave," Mike said to the others.

"Then what? Did he turn invisible?"

"You in there, Peter?" Micky continued his search, grabbing at Peter's bedsheets in a last-ditch effort to find him.

A blonde head popped up from the sheets.

Micky cried out, startled. The others yelled out in response.

There in Peter's bed, wrapped in the sheets sat a toddler, with big brown eyes and shaggy blonde hair.

The boy stared at them. The remaining Monkees stared back.

Suddenly the child flung his arms up, staring straight at Mike, a smile stretching across his face. 

A familiar _dimpled_ smile.

"Mike!" He called.

Mike almost choked. " _Peter_?"

Peter threw the blankets off him, sliding down the bed. Micky actually took a step back as if Peter was a wild animal, giving him room to stumble past in an oversized shirt.

Peter toddled his way towards Mike, who seemed to grow more panicked as he neared. 

Small hands reached up towards him.

"Up!" Peter asked with his hands in the air.

For a moment no one moved, all three staring down at the toddler with varying levels of shock on their faces.

Peter's hands made a grabbing motion. His happy face is unwavering despite the fact no one moved to grab him.

"Up?" He tilted his head, the action absolutely adorable and almost caused Micky to double over to clutch his heart.

Davy seemed to snap out of it first. "... You going to pick him up, Mike?"

Mike's head snapped towards Davy, giving him a wide-eyed look.

He turned towards Peter. Small, tiny young Peter.

Mike reached down, grabbing Peter by his sides and lifted him up. Peter's smile never faltered, despite the rather awkward way he was held. Small, bare feet dangling in the air as the oversized nightshirt hung off him. Mike was grateful he hadn't been wearing his orange bunny pajamas, as he would have tripped on his way over to him.

"How did this happen?" Mike asked as Davy stepped up to him.

"I don't think you're supposed to hold him like that," he said as he took Peter from his arms. Peter immediately latched onto Davy, laying his head in the crook of Davy's neck.

"That machine! Peter accidentally set it off yesterday, maybe that's what caused him to turn into… _this_ ," Micky quietly trailed off, taking a few steps forward to examine Peter.

"But for how long? We can't just deal with a baby Peter forever." Davy frowned, adjusting his grip on the toddler.

Mike nodded, crossing his arms and placing a hand against his cheek. "We'll have to find those scientists again, maybe they can explain," he thought aloud.

"I could check that machine for anything too, maybe that'll tell us," Micky added, already moving out the door. Mike was close behind as he headed straight for the phone.

Davy watched them leave. Looking down he was met with Peter curiously gazing up at him. It was then Davy realized just how big the shirt was on his small frame.

"We need to get you in some better clothes," Davy muttered, turning towards his closet.


End file.
